


Teenaged Athena

by lusilly



Series: Earth-28 [11]
Category: Batman: Streets of Gotham, DCU (Comics), Wonder Woman (Comics)
Genre: F/F, Gen, Gender Identity, Goddesses, Greek Mythology - Freeform, Prophecy, Self-Discovery, Themyscira, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-09 07:28:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11664426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lusilly/pseuds/lusilly
Summary: "A girl-child arrives with the first breath of spring, begot of a mortal man and the Virgin Goddess…"But what happens when that girl-child is actually born a boy-child and doesn't end up finding out they're a girl (or, girl adjacent maybe because gender is complicated?) until they're like 16, at which point it's too damn late for a Virgin Goddess of any kind to show up and plead some bullshit ancient prophecy?When a member of Robin's new team in Gotham starts showing particular supernatural strength, they call Wonder Woman. When Wonder Woman brings her to Themyscira, things go downhill.





	Teenaged Athena

**Author's Note:**

> This is an origin story, plain and simple. Jordan's is by far the most complicated backstory out of any of the kids in Damian's Gotham team (you can read more about that team in Fiat iusticia and also Wheel in the Sky), so I thought I should at least get something out there. Jordan's super trans and uses she/her pronouns now but switches to xe/xyr by the time of Wheel in the Sky. Also, she switches between using her dad's surname and her adoptive mom's surname, which is why she's called Jordan Aguilar in this story but Jordan Joyce in Wheel in the Sky.

            March was coming to an end, and although the snow had completely disappeared from Gotham streets, a cold wind still blew in from across the water, chilling the city streets. There was something eerily quiet about this time of year; not yet blooming with the life of spring, nor lazy with the heat of the summer or early fall, but without the gentle, icy kindness of snow – the end of winter could freeze a body overnight, but provided no relief for the harsh, dangerous edges of the urban landscape. This was, so Jordan had been told, a cape’s favorite time of year. Too cold for crime, too clear, the air too fresh and sharp. A wave of vague disgust washed over Jordan, hanging above the city, crouched on the edge of a sloping roof. Without the snow, people always thought they could manage outside for a night, if they didn’t have anywhere to go. The tail end of wintertime found the city quiet with crime, but all the same lined with bodies in the alleys and silent backstreets.

            A voice crackled to life in Jordan’s ear, and she flinched slightly, grimacing. On the line, someone said her name. “Jordan. Where are you? We’re on a schedule and-”

            She plucked the tiny machine from her ear, held it in front of her between her thumb and forefinger. She closed her eyes.

            The second she began to focus, a flood of sound crashed into her: she heard Niloufar’s voice, from the commlink clear as day, even though she held it before her. She also heard the cars speeding on the streets below her, and the trucks honking as they crossed the bridges out of the city; she heard the TV in the apartment below her, and in the building across from her, she heard a couples’ spat, two people arguing in a tone that caused an ache in her beating heart. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, and she heard a gentle buzzing she was unfamiliar with, something that normal human ears could not pick up, and she could hear dogs barking, people weeping, the bangs of pots and pans and a cat screeching somewhere in the distance, and her head shook, reverberating with sound as she heard Niloufar’s voice not only from the commlink before her, but faintly and far away, from their base underground.

            Jordan listened to Niloufar’s voice and her voice alone. She concentrated on that one sound, edging out the people and animals and noises of the city, until all she could hear was Niloufar’s irritated, impatient voice, filling her ears and head.

            She squeezed her thumb and forefinger together, crushing the tiny machine. She dropped the remnants into the street before her.

             “You shouldn’t do that.”

            Jordan did not immediately reply. When it became clear he would say no more, she turned slightly and asked, a challenge in her voice: “Why? You can’t afford to replace them?”

            Robin’s expression did not flicker. “Your teammate was trying to contact you.”

            “I can hear her without it.”

            “But you can’t respond.”

            She bristled slightly, but said nothing.

            Robin followed her gaze, staring out at the city. His hood was drawn up over his head, obscuring his face in shadows. “Batman doesn’t want you out here.”

            “I don’t care what Batman wants.”

            “Fine,” said Robin coolly. “But this is his city, and even if you don’t care, there are consequences for ignoring his wishes.”

            “I’d like to see him try,” muttered Jordan. “I bet he couldn’t touch me.”

            Dryly, Robin asked, “Do you?”

            Wordlessly, Jordan looked at Robin, then she stood up. She put one foot out beyond the edge of the roof and stepped out into the sky. Slowly, she hovered in the air before Robin, glaring at him. “Batman couldn’t touch me,” she repeated. “He may think Gotham belongs to him, but the guy’s only human, after all.”

            “How do you know that?” asked Robin, unfazed by her flight.

            “I’ve seen him,” answered Jordan steadily. “I’ve seen his DNA. I can see-” she stopped abruptly, narrowing her eyes, focusing her vision, staring at Robin’s shadowy face. Softly, she said, “I can see everything.”

            There was a silence between them. And then, still unmoved, Robin continued, “Batman doesn’t want to fight you. We just need to learn more about your abilities before we allow you to-”

            “You don’t _allow_ me to do anything.”

            “Yes, we do,” said Robin bluntly. “You don’t think Batman could stop you from working here? Fine, maybe not. I’m sure Superman could.”

            Jordan watched Robin, and for the first time, a hint of uncertainty crossed her face. “You’re gonna call Superman,” she asked doubtfully, “on a teenager?”

            “A teenager with flight, augmented strength and senses, and superspeed? Absolutely.”

            “What’s he gonna do? Wave kryptonite in my face?”

            “No,” said Robin patiently. “If that worked, Batman would’ve done it already.”

            “Then what-?”

            “Your other option,” said Robin, “is to come to our headquarters and let us test you. But you’d have to be unconscious for that. And it could be painful.”

            Jordan narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “I’m not some guinea pig,” she said, and there was something like a threat in her voice. “You don’t get to do that shit to me. I don’t know why this is happening, it’s not like you can _punish_ me for something I didn’t even _want_.”

            “That’s our point,” said Robin, and there was no trace of aggression or disdain in his voice anymore. “Don’t you want to know what’s happening to you? And why? You could have powers far beyond those you’re consciously aware of. Jordan – Ms. Aguilar – believe me when I say, we don’t want to take anything away from you. We want to help you. We want you on our side.”

            At first, Jordan still hesitated, hovering before him, although the anger had all but melted off her face, leaving a slight hint of fear, but no indignity. Unlike anything else Robin had said, this seemed to get to her, digging at her deep inside, and finally, she nodded, just barely.

            “Jabberwock,” she said.

            Robin blinked, watching her. He noticed, for the first time, that she was hanging slightly above him, and he had to look up to see her face.

            “That’s my codename,” she said. “Jabberwock. Like the-”

            “Poem. _‘Twas brillig, and the slithy toves_.” He paused, then added, “Carroll fan?”

            “Not really,” replied Jordan. “But it was better than Azathoth. Or-”

            “Cthulhu. Appropriate. And impressive. I was under the impression your entire team was uncultured and uninspired.”

            Jordan smiled, but it was more like she was bearing her teeth towards him. “If you ever talk about my friends like that again,” she said, “I’ll rip out your spleen.” The moonlight lit up half of his face, and he looked uncertain. She shrugged, her grin wide and stiff. “Talk shit, get hit, Robin.”

            With a certain degree of uncharacteristic awkwardness, Robin lowered his hood, and then he said, “Superman will be here tomorrow night. Will you be able to find us?”

            “Yeah,” said Jordan. “You aren’t gonna strap me down and cut me open, are you?”

            “No,” answered Robin. “Superman has slightly more finesse than that.”

            “Good,” said Jordan. Holding up her arm, she explained, “’Cause I’m pretty sure not even diamonds could cut through this shit.”

            Robin bowed his head in a half-nod. Jordan watched him.

            Then she said, “See you then, kiddo,” and with a glinting flash, she disappeared.

\----

            “You’ve got a visual?” asked Niloufar.

            “Yep! They’re across from me. Superman can probably see me – I mean, probably hear me too, right? Oh, man, that’ll be kind of awkward, if they ask why you came with-”

            “This is Batman we’re dealing with, Spoiler,” interrupted another voice. “He’d be disappointed if we weren’t all here.”

            “Well, we’re _not_ all here,” said Spoiler pointedly. “Colin and Lucas-”

            “Nell!” said Ellen, sounding upset. “Codenames!”

            “Sorry!” replied Nell. “I keep forgetting!”

            “Ember, you can see them too?” Niloufar asked.

            “Perfectly,” Ellen replied. “I’m a minute or so away, if you need backup.”

            “Thanks, Ellen,” said Niloufar. She glanced at Jordan, who was staring straight ahead, unseeing. Niloufar glanced down at the controls, then turned off the feed, so Ellen and Nell could not hear them. She watched Jordan for a second, then, quietly, she asked, “Are you ready?”

            “No,” replied Jordan, without hesitation, although she did not shift her steady gaze. “Dammit. No.”

            She didn’t say any more for a moment, but Niloufar did not push her, only watched her silently.

            With a frustrated, contained sigh, Jordan pulled her hair out of her face, tying it loosely at the nape of her neck. Then she pulled the tie off, shaking her long, dark hair back into her face, running her fingers through it. Niloufar reached out, her fingernails tickling along Jordan’s wrist, then taking her hand.

            Jordan pulled her hand away. “This is crazy,” she said, under her breath. “This is _Superman_.”

            “So?” asked Niloufar. “You’re practically Superwoman, Jordan. I bet you could hold your own against him, if you needed to.”

            Jordan’s eyes flashed slightly, glancing at Niloufar. “Do you think I’ll need to?”

            “No,” said Niloufar firmly. “Of course not. You just said it yourself – this is Superman. He’s not going to hurt you.”

            Drumming her fingers against her side, Jordan nodded. “We should’ve brought Lucas, huh?”

            “No,” said Niloufar. “We’re fine.”

            “But if things go downhill.”

            “They won’t.”

            “But-”

            “Jordan, they _won’t_.”

            “I know!” said Jordan loudly, without looking at the other woman. “God dammit, Niloufar, I know nothing’s gonna go wrong and I won’t have to run or anything, but.” She stopped abruptly. Lowering her voice, she continued, “I just need a way out. Just in case.”

            Niloufar watched her carefully, concern on her face, then said, “Ellen just said she’s a minute away. She’s due north of you, the roof on the corner of Kane. The rooftop. Nell’s the opposite direction, street-level. I’ll be here. If you need to, you can always go up. Race Superman into space.” A small smile appeared on her face. “That would be a sight to see.”

            Pointedly, Jordan said, “We don’t even know if I could breathe in space.”

            “Well,” replied Niloufar reasonably, “you certainly _couldn’t_ breathe, so I think the question becomes whether or not you need to breathe at all.”

            There was a short pause. Jordan looked down at Niloufar with her dark, oily black eyes, then leaned down, pressing her lips to Niloufar’s. Quietly, she asked, “Come with me?”

            Niloufar blinked. “With you?”

            The self-consciousness in Jordan’s eyes, the way she was searching for something on Niloufar’s face, was so foreign that Niloufar felt it like a physical blow, and she was breathless for a moment, then reached out, brushed her fingers along Jordan’s shoulders.

            “Yes,” said Niloufar. “OK, yes.” She smiled at Jordan. “Let’s not make them wait any longer, then.”

            A moment later, Jordan alit on the rooftop before three men; holding Niloufar bridal-style, she lowered her to the ground, glanced at her, then at the men. Superman stood beside Batman, both huge and intimidating, but Superman markedly more huge and markedly less intimidating, with his bright colors, blue eyes that seemed to shine even in the darkness, and the curl in the center of his forehead. Batman hovered slightly behind him, just as dark and brooding as usual. Robin stood beside them; when Jordan appeared, he stepped forward.

            “Jabberwock,” he said, “this is Superman.”

            “Yeah,” said Jordan, instantly, “I could tell.”

            “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss,” said Superman; his voice seemed inexplicably loud, although he spoke in a low, rumbling tone. His eyes flickered noticeably towards Niloufar, and Jordan spoke.

            “This is – Seraph,” she said.

            “Hafaza,” corrected Niloufar. At Jordan’s withering look, she added, “Although, I mean, Seraph is OK too.”

            Superman nodded, and then began, “Thank you for meeting with us. I’m always pleased to meet a young person dedicating their special gifts to the cause. This shouldn’t take long.”

            “What exactly is _this?_ ” asked Jordan cautiously. “I’m not gonna be some lab experiment.”

            “What?” asked Superman, blinking. “No! This is nothing like that. Didn’t Batman tell you-” he glanced over at Batman, who didn’t move. Looking back to Jordan, he continued kindly, “I’m here because I’m always interested to meet young people with powers such as yours, and because Batman wants to know – as I’m sure you do as well – how you got these powers.”

            Her eyes lit up slightly. “Do you know?”

            “No,” answered Superman. “My initial impression – that you might be somehow Kryptonian – seems incorrect.”

            “Yeah,” said Jordan. “I knew that. I’m not an alien.”

            “No,” agreed Superman. “You certainly are not. I would say you are very much a part of this Earth.”

            Jordan watched him. “What does that mean?”

            “I think,” said Superman, “I’ll let the expert explain.” He glanced up into the sky, a wide smile spreading across his face. “Just in time.”

            Behind her, Jordan heard Niloufar let out a slight gasp; she also heard Nell echo the gasp, adding an emphatic, “Holy _shit!_ ” which only those with super-hearing could have heard. Her heart heavy, anxiety knotting in her stomach, slowly, Jordan turned around.

            The woman’s landing on the roof was far more graceful than Jordan’s had been. Every minute movement seemed elegant and deliberate, and she was all but glowing with power. After a split second, Jordan realized she was gaping, and shut her mouth, self-consciousness washing over her.

            “My apologies,” said Wonder Woman, striding across the rooftop. “I would have been here earlier, but there was an emergency in New York.” Jordan was frozen, unable to even think of anything to say. When Wonder Woman approached her, she had to pull her eyes away, her body tensing, anticipating the woman’s penetrating gaze. Silently, she tried to shrink, make herself invisible, something, because she could not bear to see the look on Wonder Woman’s face.

            “Miss Aguilar,” said Wonder Woman kindly. “May I call you Jordan? Or would you prefer your codename?”

            Jordan glanced up at the woman. Her eyes were a piercing gray, different from Superman’s light, shining gaze – her eyes were deep, like the oceans, like they went on forever. And they were focused solely on Jordan’s own. She did not glance up and down Jordan’s body, she had no suspicion nor judgment on her face, just a simple, open invitation. She offered her hand.

            Slowly, Jordan took her hand. “Jordan is OK,” she said, her voice far stronger than she felt.

            “It is a great honor to meet you, Jordan,” said Wonder Woman. She shifted her hand up Jordan’s arm, to encircle her forearm. “For my people,” she said, “this is our greeting. To indicate that we are unarmed, and thus come in friendship and peace.” She peered into Jordan’s apprehensive eyes. “As I do for you.”

            “For me?” repeated Jordan. She glanced back at Robin, who hardly moved, except for a barely imperceptible nod. Looking once again at Wonder Woman, she said, “Look, I don’t know what this is about, but – I thought you were just gonna, I don’t know, tell me I have a metagene, or something-”

            “That’s the thing, Miss Aguilar,” said Superman. “You don’t.”

            Jordan stared at all of them, then looked back at Wonder Woman. Her heart seemed to go still in her chest. Wonder Woman did not look away, but only watched her with the most wise, serene expression on her face. Jordan asked her, voice hushed, “What am I?”

            “You,” said Wonder Woman gently, pride shining in her eyes, “are a princess.”

\-----

            “Oh, wow,” said Nell. “Wow, wow, wow. What do I even pack? Do you think they’ll have clothes for us there?”

            “I’m sure they do,” answered Niloufar matter-of-factly. “They’re practically ancient Greeks. I doubt they’ll want us wearing modern-day clothes.”

            “Great,” said Jordan, her voice a little sigh. “Togas.”

            “Actually,” said Nell, going through her cabinets. “I think they’re chitons, in Greece.”

            “She’s right,” added Niloufar. “I’ve heard about the libraries on Themyscira. Serious scholars go there for hands-on research about ancient customs. I’m sure things aren’t exactly historically accurate, considering Themyscira is more, you know, kind of fantastical, than ancient times really were-”

            “How do you know that?” murmured Jordan. “Maybe everybody was super-strong and could fly, back in the good old days.”

            “The Amazons can’t even do that, though,” Niloufar pointed out. “That’s just Wonder Woman.”

            “And me,” said Jordan.

            Niloufar nodded. “Yes. And you.”

            Nell chattered on happily, zipping up her backpack. Jordan and Niloufar met one another’s gaze and did not look away, sharing something silently; Ellen saw this, and chose to say nothing, gently acknowledging Nell’s excitement.

            Ellen left soon after that; Jordan offered to walk her home, but she declined. They knew she preferred the solitary darkness of the night, the city air clearing her head, the streetlights and stars lighting up her way home. And they knew, of course, that Ellen could take care of herself.

            Jordan’s apartment was in the same building as Nell’s, so it was late by the time she and Niloufar left. Although they offered to stay until Nell’s mother got home – on weekends she worked nights – Nell insisted that they go home and sleep. It would be a big day tomorrow.

            Niloufar walked Jordan up to her apartment, holding hands. They stopped outside the door like something out of a teen movie, fingers intertwining, holding their hands up together. Niloufar looked into the other girl’s dark, expressionless eyes.

            “Are you OK?” she asked.

            “I’ll live,” replied Jordan lowly. “It would take more than a little anxiety to kill me, that’s for sure.”

            Niloufar stared into her eyes searchingly, hungrily. “This is it,” she said quietly. “This is the answer to who you are. To _why_ you’re who you are. This is everything.”

            Jordan let go of Niloufar’s hands, pulling away slightly. She almost laughed. “I don’t think this’ll give me all the answers,” she said. “Probably just give me more questions. Like, what the fuck is an Amazon doing in Gotham City in the first place.” She laughed, and Niloufar joined her. “But. You know. We’ll see.”

            There was a silence. Niloufar leaned up, onto her tip-toes, and gently pressed her lips against Jordan’s. Then she pulled back and said, “I can stay with you tonight, if you want.”

            “No. That’s OK. I’m gonna spend some time with Maya, I guess.”

            “That’s probably a good idea.”

            There was silence. Niloufar reached up and pushed a long strand of hair out of Jordan’s eyes. Jordan took her hand, closing her eyes gently, pressing the other girl’s hand to her lips. Niloufar just watched Jordan silently, vulnerability she was unused to in her eyes.

            “I’ll see you tomorrow,” said Jordan, letting go of Niloufar’s hand.

            “Are you excited?” asked Niloufar.

            Jordan shrugged. “I would be,” she said, “if I weren’t so fucking terrified.” She grinned easily at Niloufar, then took out her keys, unlocking the door. “’Night, Niloufar.”

            “Goodnight, Jordan.”

            Jordan slipped into the small apartment, Niloufar returning to the street, where her motorcycle was parked. It was dark in the apartment, and Jordan tried to move silently towards her bedroom. Then a light flickered on, and Maya came into the room, holding the baby in her arms.

            “It’s fine,” she said. “Q’s not asleep yet.”

            The baby squirmed in her arms slightly, her tiny hands reaching up towards her mother’s face. Jordan didn’t say anything, watching her sister warily.

            Maya nodded towards the couch before the small TV. “Can we talk?”

            “Yeah,” said Jordan, but she didn’t move.

            With a nearly inaudible sigh, Maya moved to sit down, crossing her legs, the baby in her lap, leaning against her stomach. Jordan watched her sister for a moment, then reluctantly moved to the couch as well, sitting beside her. The baby gurgled slightly, looking around at Jordan, who smiled at her. She reached her hands out, scooting closer to Maya to allow the baby to wrap her little hands around one of Jordan’s fingers.

            She cooed at the baby, making a funny face. And then, without looking up, she asked, “Did you know?”

            Maya held the baby’s tiny body, and let out a little noise, in between a sigh and a groan. “Did I know?” she repeated, sounding tired. “I don’t know. Maybe. I knew something. I mean, Jordan.” She let out a little, harsh laugh. “There was a lot to _‘know’_ about you, kiddo.”

            “I mean, about this. You know I mean about this.”

            “Yeah, I do,” said Maya. “But…I don’t know what to tell you. No, I didn’t know you were, like, Wonder Woman’s little sister. I didn’t know that.”

            “I’m not,” said Jordan. “She just said that I’m one of them. I’m not, like, literally related to her.” Maya didn’t say anything. Her eyes were still on the baby, even as Jordan glanced up to look at her. When Maya did not return her gaze, Jordan looked back to the baby again, who resisted slightly against her mother’s touch; Maya gently scooped her up and handed her to Jordan, who held her, rocking the child gently. Quietly, she asked, “Did you know my mother?”

            Maya shook her head. “No,” she said, leaning against the back of the couch. “I didn’t know her at all. I think I might’ve seen her once in my whole life.” She was silent. She watched Jordan playing with the little baby. Then she said, “Dad wasn’t expecting you.” A pause. “Mom even less so.”

            “I know that,” said Jordan, annoyance flashing on her face, although it was mixed with something like shame. “I’ve lived in this place seventeen years and you don’t think I know that?”

            There was silence.

            Then Maya said, quietly, “You were a tough kid, when you were growing up.”

            “I know that too.”

            The baby made a little sound, as if trying to laugh. Maya watched the child’s face, the corners of her lips just barely turned down. She said, “That didn’t matter, though. It didn’t matter whose kid you were. Mom and Dad loved you. And you’re still my sister. My sister. When Q gets old enough, she’s gonna start calling you Auntie Jordan. How cute is that gonna be?”

            Jordan smiled bitterly, playing with the child.

            “What I can’t understand,” Maya continued, “is who would have possibly left you.”

            “Oh, great,” said Jordan, pretending to roll her eyes. “Cue the whole _Now that I’m a mother_ speech.”

            “No,” said Maya, an odd expression of distress and disturbance flickering across her features. “Kind of, I guess, but.” She paused abruptly, then began again: “There are a lot of reasons why a woman wouldn’t be able to take care of her baby. I get that. Of course I do.” She paused, as if thinking about her words. “But what I _don’t_ get is why a woman who’s – why a woman like _you_ , with what you can do – would have to give up a child. What’s crime and hunger and poverty to someone like you?”

            “I don’t know,” said Jordan. “Those always seemed pretty important in _my_ life.”

            Maya hesitated, there. “I mean, someone like-”

            “I know what you mean,” said Jordan, glancing at her sister. “And, look. Wonder Woman thinks that stuff’s pretty important too, you know. She spends her whole life trying to help people.”

            “Yeah, OK,” said Maya fairly, “but I really don’t think Wonder Woman’s ever had to hold three jobs to pay rent. Or spent a night on the streets.”

            There was a short little silence. Jordan said, “She’s still a good person.”

            “She’s a great person. I didn’t say she wasn’t. She’ll be a good mentor for you.”

            “You could come and meet her.”

            Maya didn’t say anything. The baby opened her mouth wide, looking around at Jordan. Then Maya said, “I don’t really want to. She’s cool, but…Paradise Island is far away from home, in a lot of different ways.”

            Slowly, the child’s face turned from an open-mouthed smile into a frown, and immediately Maya leaned forward, taking the baby from Jordan’s hands.

            “Now,” she said, “if you could get me in with _Batman_. That I might do.” She stood up. “Lemme put her to bed.”

            “Batman?” called Jordan from the couch, as Maya went into her room, rocked the crying baby, then laid her down. After a few minutes, she came back out, very softly closing the door behind her. She went back to the couch, leaning in towards Jordan, lowering her voice.

            “Yeah,” she said, her voice low. “Batman I would do.”

            Amusement edging into her voice, Jordan said, “You’ve seen Batman before.”

            “Sure, I’ve _seen_ him,” said Maya, shrugging. “You know, he’s helped me out a coupla times. But I’ve never _met_ the guy. You know?”

            There was a silence. Then Jordan said, “I could probably do that.”

            Maya laughed, but quietly, not to disturb the baby.

            “I mean, if Robin would help me out. I know him better.”

            “Oh, Jordan,” said Maya, standing up, letting out a little breath, then reaching down to pat the top of her sister’s head affectionately. “You have said a lot of things in the past couple years that I never could’ve expected.” She smiled slightly, shaking her head. “But that? Kinda takes the cake.”

            She left, heading to the room where the baby slept. “G’night. I’ll be up to say bye, probably.”

            “If you’re not?”

            “Then let me sleep. Get some rest. You need to be top of your game tomorrow.”

            “Right. ‘Night.”

            Maya disappeared into the room, flicking the light of the room off as she did so, and Jordan was left there alone. In the darkness, she could hear the baby’s gentle snores, as well as Maya’s movements in the other room. She heard her pad across the carpet to where the baby slept. The sound of a kiss, Maya’s lips on her daughter’s forehead. Even in the blackness of the apartment, Jordan could see nearly perfectly, which was always disconcerting. It was never quite dark anymore, not unless she closed her eyes. And then – if she forgot – then all the noises of the night would flood into her ears. She had powers, yes. But she did not know how to use them. She hardly knew how to control them.

            Jordan went to her room, collapsing in her bed, searching for silence, and finding sound and noise where there should have been nothing.

\-----

            It turned out (Nell was disappointed to know) that the invisible jet is only invisible _sometimes_ , and so they boarded it with no problem. Troia, tall and strong and wondrous in her glorious beauty, assured them that the ride would not be long. Jordan didn’t mind. Her stomach was in knots, roiling deep in her belly.

            Her sister had seen her off in the morning. “ _Bye-bye, Jordan!_ ” she had said, waving the baby’s little hand. “ _Say bye-bye to Aunt Jordan, Q!_ ”

            Q didn’t talk yet, but Jordan had kissed the baby goodbye, and then she’d promised Maya she’d be back safely in a day or two, and then she had gone. And now she was on a jet with Donna Troy – Wonder Woman, it seemed, had other duties – and she was stunned and honored and at the same time she really, really, really didn’t want to be there.

            Another Amazon had come with Troia to pick them up; Niloufar was talking to her excitedly, asking her all kinds of questions about the island, trying to learn some ancient Greek, the native language on Themyscira. Nell and Ellen listened in earnest. Jordan had wandered away, peering out at the sky disappearing behind them. She was in the front part of the main cabin, where, at the front, Donna Troy was steering the jet. She seemed to be on the line with someone.

            “I don’t think it’s likely,” she said, easily controlling the jet simultaneously, “but you should remind him to keep an eye on them. Maybe stay in Gotham for a while.” A pause. “Yes, but I don’t think it’ll take that long. Kara was different. She was a special case.”

            A little, tinkling laugh.

            “Yeah, you could say that.” Jordan took an uncertain step backwards, to leave Donna to her conversation; but the woman glanced behind her, then said, “I’ll let you know when I do. I have to go.” And then she took something out of her ear and called, “Jordan? Would you like to join me?”

            Jordan’s stomach clenched slightly. “Uh, I didn’t want to interrupt or anything-”

            Donna laughed again, that beautiful, perfect laugh which instantly made Jordan feel a little less scared. “You aren’t. I could drive this thing with my eyes closed.” She glanced back at Jordan, with clear blue eyes. “And, to be honest, I was looking for a way out of that conversation anyway.”

            Jordan hesitated for a second, then moved forward, taking a tentative seat next to Troia. “Who were you talking to?”

            She did not answer right away, as if considering the question. And then Donna answered, “Nightwing. He’s in Gotham right now. Have you ever worked with him?”

            “No,” answered Jordan. “We don’t really work with anyone outside of Robin.”

            “Ah,” said Donna. “And how is he?”

            “Annoying,” replied Jordan. “But he gets shit done, so.”

            Donna actually laughed at that, heartier and more sincere than her earlier laughs. Less for Jordan’s benefit, and more out of real amusement. “A very valuable trait,” she said. “Nightwing insists he’s a good kid.”

            “He is, I guess.”

            “That’s good.”

             There was a short silence. They both stared out at the vast expanse of sky before them.

            Jordan said, “I’m not going to fit in right.”

            Donna glanced at Jordan. “What do you mean?” she asked. “On Themyscira?”

            Jordan nodded, miserably.

            “A lot of us think that a lot of the time, and we’re usually wrong.” When Jordan didn’t reply to this, Donna continued, “The Amazons – my sisters – are better than you give them credit for. They’re not going to hurt you, not with their weapons or their words or anything. _You_ are our sister now, and they will all respect that.”

            Jordan looked away. Then she began, “I didn’t mean…”

            She trailed off. Donna waited patiently.

            Beginning again, Jordan said, “I don’t mean that they’ll make me feel unwelcome. Wonder Woman, you know, she came and got me. Personally. So they’re bound to like me, or something, I guess. But.” She hesitated, glancing at Jordan. “I don’t know. I don’t care what other people are like. But. I feel it sometimes, inside myself. Like I don’t belong. Like I’m not really there.”

            Donna listened to this all, but she did not look away from the sky before her. “Like you’re not there?”

            “Yeah,” answered Jordan. “Like not _me_. Somebody else, in my head, but…” she trailed off. Quietly, she said, “I don’t always feel like _me_.”

            There was an aching in Donna’s heart for this girl. She could almost _feel_ the sweet softness of her soul, and yet she was boxed in with ragged edges and sharp corners she’d set up a long time ago, to prevent herself from being hurt by other people. Jordan was anxious, and viscerally afraid, and there was so little Donna could do to alleviate her fear. Jordan did not trust easily.

            “Jordan,” said Donna, simple kindness laid out in her voice, “there isn’t anything _I_ can do about that part of you. But you should know that there is no reason for shame or for fear or embarrassment, where you’re going. When I say that you are our sister, I mean it in a very sacred, very ancient way.” She glanced at Jordan finally, flashing her a sincere smile. “We have a bond now, you and I. Inextricable. And it is built from love and compassion, not some poison loyalty we’ll use against you. We – Themyscira – the Amazons – we should not be a ball and chain for you. I hope that when you get there, you see that the only thing we want for you is to realize yourself in the fullest way imaginable.”

            “Realize myself?”

            “And I don’t mean just your powers. Although we will teach you how to wield your gifts, I also hope we can help you find yourself.”

            There was a pause. Jordan watched Donna. “What does that mean?” she asked. “Find myself. You mean on the island?”

            “Well,” said Donna fairly, “maybe. Maybe far beyond the island.”

            She looked at Jordan, who was still staring at her questioningly.

            “You can’t be who you were meant to be,” continued Donna firmly, “you cannot fulfill the destiny that was written for you long ago…if _you_ don’t know who you are.”

            She smiled at Jordan kindly.

            “On Themyscira,” she said, “I hope, if nothing else, you find a place of belonging, of identity. I hope that we can provide that for you, in whatever shape or form you need.” She chuckled slightly. “I know you come from Gotham,” said Donna, “so this might be a foreign concept to you, but we are a society founded on the laws of friendship, empathy, and mutual trust.”

            “Yeah,” said Jordan. “And fighting and being warriors and general badassery.”

            Donna’s laugh was loud, then. “And that too,” she admitted. “But all that is tied up with love, as well. We are _fierce_ , this much is true. But more often than not, we’re being fiercely _protective_ of our sisters.” She paused. She glanced at Jordan, who was now staring blankly forward, out at the sky. “Of you, now.”

            There was a long quiet. Donna fell into it comfortably, watching over the ship.

            And then Jordan said, quickly, “Wonder Woman _knows_ , right?”

            Donna glanced at her. “Knows what?”

            “You know,” said Jordan, sounding uncomfortable. “About me. I mean, she picked me anyway, right?”

            “I don’t think Diana _picked_ you. You were already chosen.”

            “Yeah, OK, but, um, Miss Troy-”

            “Call me Donna.”

            “OK. I mean. You know, right?”

            Donna said, “I know you feel like you have a lot to prove-”

            “I wasn’t always a girl,” said Jordan, bluntly. “You know that’s what I’m talking about. It’s gonna drive me crazy if everyone pretends they don’t know.” She fell silent. Then, quieter, she repeated, “I wasn’t always how I am now. I don’t even… Sometimes I’m not even sure…”

            For a long moment, Donna considered this. And then, slowly, she began to speak: “Yes, Jordan. I knew that. And so does Diana. But – if I may say so – while you may not have always felt a woman complete…” her eyes slid across to rest on Jordan for just a moment, to take in the fear on the girl’s face, the wide vulnerability in her eyes, “…you have _always_ been a woman, where it really matters.”

            The younger girl’s head dropped slightly. “That’s easy to say,” she murmured.

            “Yes,” said Donna. “It is. But – as I’ve said – I can’t do anything to ease this for you. You will go on your own journey of discovery, and you will define yourself in your own terms. This is something many women struggle with, and we sisters try to help each other through it. You have been doing it on your own for years.”

            Jordan said nothing.

            “I hope that Themyscira will be a place for you to find security and peace,” she said. “That’s what it’s always been for me, and I don’t quite belong there either. You’ll do well there. Just give it a chance.”

            Still, silence.

            Donna reached up and flipped a few switches, fiddled with some dials. “We’re almost there,” she said. “Go tell everyone to settle down, we’ll be landing in ten minutes.”

            Jordan didn’t move for a second, then she stood up. “OK,” she said. “Donna…thanks.”

            Donna nodded, only glancing at Jordan. “Anytime.”

            Landing was less intimidating than Jordan had thought. There were only a few Amazons in their reception party, led by Diana. Around them, on the landing bay, women scrambled around, wearing little, their bodies tall and strong and muscled and perfect, managing the equipment. It was extremely intimidating for Jordan, who felt suddenly like a specimen under a microscope, as if everyone was glancing at her when she wasn’t looking, sizing her up. Even if no one was actually doing this, it didn’t feel right. It made Jordan self-conscious and uncomfortable.

            Diana welcomed the four of them – Jordan, Niloufar, Ellen, and Nell – and then showed them to their rooms. The rest of the island’s women seemed to disperse, returning to whatever it was they were doing. There seemed to be very little urgency: women gathered in the halls to speak to one another, made their way to sparring and training sessions, carried on making food, tending to the forge. The busiest part of the main palace, where they were led, seemed to be the entrance to the library, thrown open and inviting.

            Nighttime begun to leach the light from the sky. After Niloufar and the others fell asleep and the island became quiet, Jordan stepped outside their quarters. She looked up at the sky above them, where every single star shone with a brightness Jordan had never seen, which was indiscernible in Gotham City. The Milky Way gently made its path across the inky black sky, unobscured by smog or cloud cover. Without noticing it, Jordan’s feet lifted off the ground and she rose into the air in the grace of flight.

            “Jordan,” called a voice from the ground.

            Caught by surprise, Jordan tumbled a little in air, losing her balance and flipping around so she hung upside-down before the person who stood waiting for her on the ground. “Oh,” said Jordan, as Donna Troy smiled up at her. “Hi.”

            “Hi,” said Donna, with a little wave. “Someone’s here who wants to see you.”

            Jordan righted herself, then alit back on the ground. Cautiously, she asked, “Am I in trouble?”

            Instantly, Donna shook her head. “Not at all. It’s just that you look like you’re having trouble sleeping, and she got here early.”

            Still suspicious, Jordan asked, “Who got here?”

            Donna pointed towards the center of the island. “Pallas Athena,” she said.

            Jordan stared at her. “Pallas _who_?”

            “Athena,” repeated Donna. “The goddess. She’s in the keep.”

            “The _what_ now?”

            “The temple keep,” said Donna, with no hint of impatience. “She’s waiting for you.”

            Finding herself a little speechless, Jordan spluttered, “Waiting for _me_? Why’s she waiting for _me_?”

            Donna only watched Jordan. In the dark night, her gray eyes seemed see-through and spooky. “Jordan,” she began, her voice level, “…that’s why you’re here.”

            She took flight after that. Jordan followed her, a little slower and less steady, as they headed towards the highest part of the island, where a beautiful marble and gold building faced the east, as if in anticipation of the rising sun. Donna landed on the edge of the cliff, then headed towards the temple doors, where Diana waited.

            Uncertainly, Jordan followed Donna. “What’s going on?” she asked Diana, unable to mask the fear in her voice.

            For a moment, Wonder Woman regarded Jordan thoughtfully.

            Then she said, “The goddess has requested your presence, Jordan Aguilar. If I’m not mistaken, she has something to tell you.”

            “What is it?”

            Diana shook her head. “It is not my place to divulge a secret that belongs to a god.”

            “You’re _Wonder Woman_ ,” Jordan said, convincingly. “Who cares what the gods say?”

            With a generous smile, Diana reached out and placed a hand on Jordan’s shoulder. “Athena,” she began, “and the other gods, have granted me my gifts, Jordan. If I am beholden to any laws, it is theirs. You, on the other hand.” Her grip at Jordan’s shoulder tightened slightly, as if indicating urgency. Her smile flattened slightly, became tighter. “You are not.”

            Jordan didn’t understand what this meant, but Diana had already removed her hand. She removed something from her belt.

            “Take this,” she said, holding out the Lasso of Truth towards Jordan. “Not for the goddess, but for you. I know that it can sometimes be difficult to find our own truth, to examine our own feelings and admit what we truly want, both to ourselves and to others. I hope that the lasso will make that easier on you.”

            Now Jordan was scared. “What’s happening?” she asked, refusing to take the lasso. Diana reached out and took her hand, gently placing the lasso in her grip. “What could like, the goddess of wisdom and war and whatever want with _me_?”

            From behind her, Donna spoke. “You aren’t an Amazon, Jordan.”

            Jordan turned around, confused. “What?” she asked. Her stomach felt sick. “Then – what am I?”

            The doors to the temple swung open. In their wake they revealed a woman, framed in light bright as day spilling out from the temple behind her. Pallas Athena was dressed in a pantsuit, her hair cropped into a neat pixie cut.

            “A god,” said Athena, simply.

            She offered her hand to Jordan. Donna and Diana both watched Jordan, not the goddess at the temple doors. Glancing between the two of them, Jordan held tightly onto the lasso with both hands. She offered neither of hers to Athena.

            Athena shrugged. “Come,” she said, beckoning inwards. She turned and headed into the temple. Nervously, Jordan glanced at Donna, who nodded encouragingly. It took her a few moments, but she managed to pull herself together enough to move forward. Clutching the lasso, she entered the temple.

            Inside it appeared to open up into an exterior courtyard, though sunlight lit up the courtyard above blue skies. Jordan knew this was impossible: it was the middle of the night. Cautiously, curiously, she moved forward. Behind her, the doors of the temple swung close.

            Athena headed confidently towards a fountain in the middle of the courtyard. Slowly, Jordan started to follow her. She pointed up at the sky. “Why is it daytime?” she asked, raising her voice slightly as Athena’s back was turned towards her.

            The goddess glanced around. “It’s always daytime in the temple of Olympians,” she said simply. “Themyscira has been blessed by many gods. This was that of my brother, Apollo. Eternal sunlight.” When she reached the fountain, she stopped and turned around, smiling at Jordan. “His twin sister didn’t think it was such a hot idea, but she gave the Amazons many other gifts. I think he felt he had to keep up.”

            Jordan stood awkwardly by the edge of the courtyard. Athena took a seat on the side of the fountain, then patted the stone beside her. “Come. Sit with me.”

            “Why?” asked Jordan bluntly.

            “Because,” answered Athena smoothly, without skipping a beat, “there is something you need to know.”

            “I don’t want to play a game,” Jordan told her, feeling a strange surge of confidence. In her hands, the lasso grew warm. “Don’t make me wait. If there’s something you gotta tell me, tell me first. Then I decide if I want to sit with you.”

            Athena gave Jordan a small smile. She gestured at the water of the fountain. “It’s a visual,” she said.

            “I’m not even gonna glance in your fucking wishing well before you tell me why I’m here.”

            From the back of her throat, Athena made a small, approving sound. “Pugnacious,” she said. “Quick to quarrel. I see you take after your mother, Jordan.”

            Jordan’s pulse quickened. She took a step forward. “You know who she is?” she asked, her brow knit. “Is she on the island?”

            That smile never flickered. Athena nodded.

            There was a beat of silence, and then Jordan strode forward, lasso in hand. When she reached the fountain Athena held out her hands, and Jordan wrapped the lasso around the goddess’s wrists. “Tell me,” Jordan demanded, her eyes hard. “Who is my mother?”

            Athena watched her. Those steely gray eyes pierced her heart.

            “I am,” she said.

            For a moment, nothing happened. It was as if all things big and small went silent across the world, as if the island froze in time for a moment as Jordan’s heart stopped and then restarted, as if the even the sky above grew suddenly cold, leaving Jordan feeling like her blood was made of ice.

            She pulled the lasso away from Athena’s wrists.

            “I don’t understand,” she began bluntly, and Athena gestured once more to the stone beside her.

            “Please,” said Athena. “Sit with me. I’ll explain everything.”

            “Everything?”

            She bowed her head in a nod. “Everything. I promise you, Jordan.” There was a pause. Jordan didn’t move. “Let’s start from the beginning. Yes?”

            Though Jordan did not answer, Athena turned to the fountain.

            “A long time ago,” she said simply, “there lived a woman with the most unfortunate gift of Sight. Men kept her in temples, fed her offerings. They worshipped and feared her words.”

            The reflection in the water of the fountain stirred slightly, something appearing like shining glitter from its depths. Despite herself, Jordan leaned forward, craning her neck to see it. The shadowy figure of a woman appeared there.

            Athena watched Jordan. Gesturing with one hand at the water, she said, “The Oracle.”

            “Oracle?” echoed Jordan, glancing at Athena. She considered this, then made a face. “I know Oracle,” she said. She pointed at the reflection in the water. “And that’s no Oracle.”

            A slight smile tugged on the corners of Athena’s lips. “Of course. I’m happy to see the tradition continues, albeit in whatever shape is necessary for a changing world. But the Oracle of my age used to make prophecies, Jordan. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. That’s what this all is about.” She watched Jordan, who still held the lasso tightly, peering down at the water. “One of her prophecies was about you.”

            Jordan looked at the goddess. “Are you serious?”

            “Very much so,” Athena answered. “As it happens, you take after me that way. A thousand thousand years ago, there was a prophecy about my birth, too. The Oracle told my father that after I was born, another child would be born after me. She told him that this child would be more powerful than he was, and would one day overthrow him to rule Olympus.” She gave Jordan a wry grin. “She was a bit off, though. In time, with my champion’s help, I came to rule Olympus in his stead.” The grin faded slightly, replaced with steely nothingness. “Though the prophecy of the second child remains.”

            “You just said I was your daughter,” Jordan pointed out, “not your sister.”

            “In my family tree, one can be both,” Athena told her shortly. When Jordan looked alarmed, she reassured her, “But don’t worry. To the other gods of Olympus I am known as _Athena Parthenos_ , the Virgin.”

            Skeptically, Jordan said, “I thought Artemis was supposed to be the virgin goddess.”

            Athena’s eyebrows raised approvingly. “Ah,” she said, crossing her legs. “So you know more about your heritage than I thought.”

            “Not really,” responded Jordan, with some belligerence. “I skimmed through Wikipedia a little but that’s it.”

            Waving this away with one hand, Athena continued, “A lot of us were virgin goddesses back then. It was a convenient way for our worshippers to think of us, because otherwise we became mothers or harpies or whores. My sister and I didn’t have much choice in the matter. But it was only a title,” she added, leaning in slightly. “Not necessarily true in practice, as evidenced by your existence.”

            Jordan looked away from the fountain, back up at Athena. There was a frown on her face. “Why my dad?” she asked.

            It looked for a moment like Athena was not going to answer this question. And then she shook her head, looking finally away from Jordan’s face.

            “I don’t know,” said Athena honestly. “If I wanted to, I could tell you that the stories told of a man with jet-black hair from beyond the southern reaches who was fated to bring me joy and grant me with a child. But that would place too much stock in fate I think. The truth is that I hardly knew your father, Jordan. I don’t think that’s so bad.”

            “It’s not,” Jordan said stonily. “But forgetting to stick around to raise the kid you popped out kind of is.”

            In the silence that followed this, an owl hooted. It flew to Athena’s shoulder, but she shooed it away.

            “Half-bloods cannot live in Olympus,” she told Jordan shortly. “Children we believe to be boys, mistakenly or not, cannot be raised on Themyscira. I had no other option.”

            “That’s bullshit,” said Jordan, rolling her eyes and shouldering the lasso. “But OK.”

            “I want you to hear the prophecy,” Athena said, with some urgency, like a plea. “Just listen to what it says. Then we can talk.”

            “Were we not already talking?” asked Jordan doubtfully. “Is that not what we’re doing right now?”

            Ignoring this, Athena turned back to the fountain. She trailed the tips of her fingers along the surface of the water, and a woman’s figure appeared once more, shadowy and indistinct. From nowhere and everywhere at once, a voice came rising up, as if whispering directly into Jordan’s ear, resounding in her head of its own accord.

            _A girl-child arrives with the first breath of spring, begot of a mortal man and the Virgin Goddess… The aegis-inheritor comes crowned with a wreath of spears and armor gifted by the gods, a hero to inherit Olympus, a daughter of the Amazons and of the goddess herself, forged in fire, tempered by the flames… And the daughter will serve her liege as champion as no champion has served before, and be rewarded with every honor the gods can bestow… A girl-child arrives with the first breath of spring, begot of a mortal man…_

As the figure in the fountain began to repeat her prophecy, Athena once more trailed her fingers across the water. The sight dissipated. Athena watched her daughter.

            “That girl-child,” she said, “is you.”

            Jordan stared at Athena, trying to take all of that in. _And the daughter will serve her liege as champion…_

            “You didn’t even know I _was_ a girl-child,” Jordan pointed out.

            Athena didn’t deny this. “Not until recently, no.”

            “You just, like. Lost track of me in the meantime, is that it?”

            “I have lived millennia, Jordan,” Athena told her, sounding almost bored. “Forgive me if I had duties which outweighed watching a baby grow up.”

            Jordan realized she was clenching her teeth. She thought about Q, her sister’s baby, about how she was probably sleeping soundly somewhere in Gotham right now. Suddenly, Jordan missed her terribly.

            “That’s bullshit,” said Jordan simply.

            This did not immediately appear to faze Athena. “Is it?”

            “You didn’t want me,” continued Jordan, hot anger gathering in her belly, “until you realized that I might be the stupid kid from your stupid prophecy. Until you realized I might be able to help you out in whatever you’re trying to do here. I don’t know what the fuck you need a _champion_ for and I don’t know why the fuck your old ones weren’t good enough, but you can bet I’m not going to get down on my knees and thank you for whatever honors you try bestowing on me just ‘cause you suddenly realized you _wanted_ me. No,” she said firmly, clutching the lasso tightly. Gently, it glowed. “You left me with my dad and didn’t give a shit until today. I don’t care what that stupid prophecy says. I’m not your daughter, and I’m not your champion. I’m not your anything.”

            There was a long, painful pause.

            Athena nodded. “Your resentment and your pain is fair,” she said coolly, as if Jordan hadn’t just basically told her to go fuck herself. “I have no objection to that. I have no excuses to give you, because it is as it seems. I didn’t realize how important you were until I saw how the prophecy was already being fulfilled. Jordan, my last champion was Princess Diana, your Wonder Woman, and even she did not possess all the gifts you have.”

            “No,” said Jordan again, resolute. “I don’t give a shit.”

            “I’m not asking you to immediately pledge your fealty to me,” Athena continued, pleading. She reached out and took hold of Jordan’s hands, but Jordan pulled them away. “What I want to do for you, now, is to give you the opportunity to serve a higher purpose. To honor your true calling. I do not know if you ever met my sister, Cassandra Sandsmark, daughter of Zeus-”

            “Nope,” said Jordan, arms crossed.

            “Well, she was once known as Wonder Girl. She no longer holds that title.” Athena watched Jordan. “It’s no Olympus,” she told her, sympathetically, “but I would like to offer you Themyscira, if you’ll accept. Come train with the Amazons, your sisters. They will teach you everything they know. They’ll make you the greatest warrior this world has ever seen. You could be so _strong_ , daughter,” said Athena urgently. She stood, reaching out to take Jordan’s shoulders. Jordan was almost taller than she was. “So brave. So wise. Let me teach you.”

            “Don’t touch me,” Jordan said, jerking herself away from Athena’s touch. “When you thought I was a boy you were happy to abandon me and never look back. You aren’t allowed to start caring for me the second I start being what you wanted.”

            “Jordan-”

            “No,” repeated Jordan. She took a few steps back, then shook her head. “I shouldn’t have even fucking come here to begin with,” she said aloud, to no one in particular. “But I guess Niloufar liked the fucking library. So.”

            Jordan turned away from a goddess, and she headed straight back to the doors of the temples. Though they groaned when she opened them, open they did, and she found Donna and Diana waiting for her on the other side. “Jordan,” said Donna immediately, in surprise. “How – did it go?”

            The doors swung shut behind her, plunging them back into moonlight. Uncertain how to answer this, Jordan took the lasso off her shoulder and handed it back to Diana.

            Eventually, glancing between the two women, she admitted: “Not great.”

            Donna looked slightly stricken, but Diana just gave a little laugh. “It’s all right,” she said, to both Jordan and Donna. “I could describe plenty of encounters with Athena similarly. She may be the Goddess of Wisdom, but she can be a bit thick sometimes.”

            Jordan gave an uncomfortable smile.

            It was Donna who asked. “Alright,” she began. “Well, Jordan. I understand the goddess had a kind of proposition for you. And as the original bearer of that name, the first Wonder Girl, I’d like to have the honor to pass down the legacy-”

            “Oh,” said Jordan. “I’m not doing that.”

            There was an awkward pause. Donna glanced at Diana, who asked kindly, “Not doing what?”

            “Wonder Girl,” answered Jordan, glancing around as if unsure why this was a big deal. “I kind of don’t like the name. Really gendered, you know? I think I’m gonna stick with Jabberwock.”

            Though both women seemed ever so slightly taken aback, Diana recovered first. “Of course,” she said. “It suits you. Should you desire any training, we are completely at your service.”

            “Honestly?” said Jordan, making a face. “I think I want to go home. I’m kind of pissed off by this whole thing and it’d be great to just kind of go and see my sister and her baby right now.”

            Donna blinked. “Now?”

            Jordan shrugged. “I guess in the morning is OK.”

            Again, there was a short silence where Donna and Diana exchanged glances. And then Diana rose gracefully into the air. “Certainly,” she said, hovering above the cliff side. “We will return you and your friends home to Gotham when morning comes, unless you decide otherwise.”

            “Thanks,” said Jordan.

            Donna reached out, gently placing a hand on her arm. “Do you need anything?” she asked. “Do you want to talk?”

            Jordan, too, rose into the air. “No thanks,” she said. “I’ll be OK. It’ll buff out.” She lifted up to Diana’s side, then punched her in the shoulder. “Hey, thanks for everything,” she said. “This may have sucked, but it’s good to finally know. Right?”

            Then she flashed a winning grin at both Donna and Diana, and she headed back across the island towards her quarters.

\----

            When they took off in the morning, Niloufar was not happy. “You’re welcome to visit the island whenever,” Diana told her, piloting the jet. “That goes for all of you. Allow it to be your second home.”    

            Even Ellen peered wistfully out the windows as the plane lifted into the air, but Jordan didn’t regret it. She wanted to be far from this place and far from that dumb prophecy and from the smiling woman she now knew to be her mother.

            Disembarking in Gotham – Batman had been gracious enough to provide a landing dock somewhere slightly outside of Gotham – Diana took Jordan aside before she let her go off with the others.

            She removed something from her forehead, and held it out to Jordan.

            “I want you to have this,” she said, quietly.

            Brow knit in confusion, Jordan looked up at Diana. “What?” she asked. “No. I can’t take that.”

            “Yes,” answered Diana patiently. “You can.”

            “Why would I?” asked Jordan skeptically. Behind them, the others talked and laughed, curiously relieved to be back home. “I told Athena I didn’t want to be a part of your whole thing. I don’t need Wonder Woman’s tiara.”

            “It’s not a tiara,” said Diana.

            “Yeah, it is,” replied Jordan bluntly, pointing at the thing. “I’m looking at it right now, that shit’s a tiara.”

            Still, Diana held it out, but gave a conciliatory nod of her head. “Tiara it may be,” she admitted, “but it’s forged from Athena’s aegis. That means it belongs to you, aegis-inheritor.”

            Jordan wasn’t even sure she really knew what an _aegis_ was, but all she could do was hold up her hand, refusing it. “No,” she said again. “I don’t want her aegis thingy. I don’t want to owe her anything, not even kooky magical protection.”

            “It’s not _her_ aegis thingy,” Diana told Jordan plainly. “It’s mine. The gods granted me with it years ago. I want you to have it.”

            Jordan stared at her. “Me?” she asked doubtfully. “I just totally rejected your whole thing. I’m not exactly a Wonder-fan. I’m sure a lot of people would lose their shit about that aegis, but – like, it’s OK. Keep it.”

            Diana’s hand did not move. “You’re not taking it because you don’t want it, Jordan,” she said. “You’re taking it because you don’t think you deserve it.”

            For a full half a minute, Jordan stared at Diana’s face.

            And then she snatched the tiara out of her hand. She placed it askew on the top of her head then stood up straight, displaying it proudly.

            “Fuck off, Wonder Woman,” she said, though it was with little venom in her voice. “Nobody tells me what I think I deserve except for me.”

            She turned and stalked away, back towards Niloufar and the others, leaving a little smile tugging at the corners of Diana’s lips.


End file.
